The Blower's Daughter
by ISayOye
Summary: Random journal entries from Jim and Pam taking place after presently post-current season 4.


Story Notes:

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my words…or at least most of them.  
Author's note: I've never written an Office and/or dirty story before so try to be easy on me, but constructive criticism is always welcome… Oh, and I have no beta, so sorry about that. The title "The Blowers Daughter" is from a song by Damien Rice and it's on the "Closer" soundtrack.

Author's Chapter Notes:

It will get more explicit as time goes on and the dubious stuff will soon follow as well.

Pam's Journal:  
So many things have changed since the last time I wrote a journal, diary, or whatever. I remember thinking it was too immature for a person who was going to get married, and then that whole married thing never happened. I showed my maturity by waiting around for years, and that makes perfect since right? Now, I'm too happy to only keep it to myself. I told my mom that I just wanted to bottle it up so I can never forget what my life has become and what it feels like to be in this moment.  
Tonight happens to be the first night I've had alone in about seven months and I'm not complaining. I keep trying to think about ways I can enjoy being alone but everything comes back to the fact that he's no here and the more I think about it the more I wish he was. I'm kind of kicking myself for the stupid comment about our living arrangements I happen to make yesterday during lunch. I mean, I'm right, but I guess it was really easier for him not to admit that all of his clothes and belongings he actually uses are all at my house. He has literally taken over most of my dresser, over a third of my closet, he's managed to alphabetically mix all of his dvds and cds with mine, and some how all of his dishes, pots, pans, etc. have all magically ended up in my kitchen. Yet when I bring up the fact that he has been paying rent for an apartment he hasn't lived in for three months he freaks out and decides to spend the night at "his place." The truly ironic thing is the fact that when he wakes up tomorrow he's not going to have any bath products to clean himself with because they're all in my shower, or clothes to wear because they're all spread around "my" bedroom. When he shows up tomorrow morning at five am I fully intend to laugh at him as long as he shows no signs of taking his stuff back. I like having it all cluttered around my apartment. I mean, I lived with a significant other for six years of my ten year relationship and I know it wasn't perfect, but it's nice to know that someone else belongs there. Jim really does belong her whether he's man enough to admit or not.  
I can feel my cheeks already starting to burn. I don't actually question if he's a man. I mean…. The silliest things give me dirty thoughts. I'll be looking at a paperclip on my desk and suddenly be thinking about how his hands travel up my shirt when we make out on the couch. How the two things relate I'll never know, but it truly speaks to my self control or lack there of. I think thinking about him like that. I mean, since about two weeks in to when we met I've thought about him like that, but now I actually knows what it feels like, what he looks like, what he sounds like. The way… I don't think I've ever imagined sex as good as it actually can be before. Whatever that means.  
We had the weirdest conversation the other day in bed when I finally decided that watching the discovery health channel wasn't appropriate background noise and turned it off. It's not that the site of mangled bodies rolled into the emergency room is a turn on, but I like watching Jim squirm in fear when the baby shows come on. Apparently earlier that day Darryl had made comments that led to Roy that somehow led to Jim questioning whether or not he was pleasing me. Now that I think about it probably wasn't good to laugh at him once he told me that, but honestly I do believe my neighbors know that I'm pleased along with anyone else in a five mile radius. That might be a little exaggerated. Anyways, after we got passed how ridiculous the insinuation was we started talking about how great our "doing it" is. I learned in high school that the best way to get something you want from your boyfriend is to give a take certain sexual activities and that's when I perfected my performance with my mouth. The more blowjobs Roy got the happier our relationship, which now sounds…it was high school. I guess, I just learned to enjoy it back then so doing it now is just kind of fun especially since I can see the look on Jim's face when thinks I'm about to pull up, but with him I actually get turned on when he finishes in my mouth. Mainly because think about me letting him do it managed to turn him on even more, and I'm constantly trying to out do myself. We joke that eventually I'll be able to make him come with just thought.  
I really wish he was here right now. I can already feel myself getting more and more…ready, and I'm not really used to "doing it" by myself. Roy used to get mad at me if I were to even think about masturbating because that's probably the one problem he'd be more than happy to help me with. Usually he was really good at it anyway so it wasn't a problem. After I called off the wedding and starting thinking about nothing but Jim I was too depressed to try a solo project, and now that I'm actually with Jim he's usually here helping me keep the apartment building up all night. At this point I have to admit its gets practically impossible to not be thinking about how hard…  
Wow. I need to get away from the computer.

Jim's Journal:  
I inadvertently moved in to my girlfriend's apartment. The worst part is the fact that she noticed and I didn't, and now I'm stuck in a very cold practically empty apartment with nothing to do or wear because I moved them all to her place. I'm not entirely sure why I'm here either. I could be in a warm bed with her warm body doing what two warm bodied people do together, but instead I'm trying to remember the last time I actually felt the need to take a cold shower. If I ever with her right now I could just slip inside of her unexpectedly, she'd giggle, drop whatever remote or book she was holding, and start to moan. I love that moan. The moan I won't be hearing because I'm the idiot who freaked out when he realized he inadvertently moved into his girlfriend's apartment!  
Right now when if I was with her I could just give her a certain smile that would send out signals telling her how much I love her mouth. How much I lover her mouth loving me, and to be perfectly honest when she blows me I'm pretty sure I start to register brain dead. I've never seen a girl get as much pleasure as I do when she has me in her mouth. Granted my experience when it comes to blow jobs is pretty limited all the same I love watching her head move in my lap feeling her tongue on me. She looks happy.  
Thinking about it, my first blow job was a girl I didn't really know that well in high school and she only did it because I paid her five bucks just like every other guy in the school. It wasn't until Katy that anyone ever blew me again, and she was just down there for a few seconds before she got on top of me. That's usually when I started to pretend she was someone else. Karen didn't believe in blow jobs, because out of everything she did want to do putting a dick in her mouth was beneath her or something. I honestly think that was because I couldn't help her move up in the company, so she mainly stuck to pumping me off quickly out in the car when I was about to drop her off. Again I started to think of someone else, but it wasn't like I was ready to admit that at the time. Even after we started to have sex it never really seemed like she was enjoying herself or me. It was more like a way to keep a guy around for her and it probably really was at that point in time. I mean, I liked Karen, but I always knew she was a rebound. She was my distraction and safety net before I was shoved back to Scranton, and now she's the girl that I don't think actually liked me as anything more than her lack of other options. I really hope she can find someone who she can enjoy sex with.  
With Pam it's like we're truly making an effort to please the other person and turning them on only makes us more turned on. I get so hard when I think about her getting pleasure out of sucking me off. I love watching her do it. I have a hard enough time not watching her work all day, and stare at her when we go home and she cooks, but when we're doing it together in any capacity I just can't keep my eyes off of her. I just really love her and really love watching her feel good. I mean, watching her while I'm down between her legs the whole couple of times a month she'll let me is probably the simply most fascinating thing I've ever seen. I think that might be my favorite pass time. And right now it's probably what's responsible for the fact that I can now see my penis poking out of my boxers. I should probably take care of that… DAMN IT! I have no soap here. Plain old cold shower it is then.  
Do I write like this every night or just nights that I'm not already in bed with her? It's been awhile since I've read my own journal, which is weird since I've been writing in one ever since I met Pam five years ago. Pam… And suddenly I remember my hard on.  
To do list: Jack off, Call Pam, Get storage unit, break lease….and only I that order!

Chapter End Notes:

I hope whoever read this liked it. Please review.


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